


Strike

by yeaka



Series: Lions [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 08:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Regis takes Nyx.





	Strike

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressOfLions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOfLions/gifts).

> A/N: For Mistress of Lions for a donation to the African Wildlife Foundation.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s been a long time since Regis has had to care for an omega, and he’s never held one quite like Nyx. From the outside looking in, it doesn’t look like Nyx should need an alpha at all. If it weren’t for the magic coursing through his veins, Regis wouldn’t be any match for the ferocity and youth of his better glaives. He’s heard that Nyx is his very _best_, and Regis can believe it. Even stripped bare and shivering, shrouded in a haze of submissive pheromones, Nyx is a beast of a man. His sculpted body is covered in tight muscles. A thin layer of sweat highlights that obvious strength—his body’s flushed and glimmering. 

He shifts in Regis’ lap, fidgeting, fretfully asleep. He’s curled up around Regis’ legs in the middle of the bed, the mattress lined in interwoven fabrics and pillows that don’t belong there. Regis can recognize quite a few of his casual clothes sewn into the walls. He knows that many in the Citadel would throw a fit if they knew a glaive had come in and ransacked his closet, but Regis finds the nest strangely heart-warming. It’s sweet to think that his old things can bring someone so much comfort. Seeing a man like Nyx fuss over simple fabrics is oddly endearing. Regis is both amused and very, very fond. 

He pets Nyx, enough that quiet purring fills the room. His fingers thread easily through the dark tufts of hair that stripe the top of Nyx’s head, trailing back along the shaved-down sides, toying with the few intricate braids that wander down the back. A few times, he lets his knuckles brush across Nyx’s cheeks, rifling through the stubble and stroking below his chin. Nyx is no pet cat, but in a way, he acts like one—he leans into the touch and mewls, body flexing. As Regis’ attentions become more doting, Nyx’s purring growls louder, until his eyes open partway and flicker up to Regis.

They’re completely clouded over. His pupils have eaten up his irises, his lips wet and slightly parted, cheeks a lovely pink. He’s very much in _full heat_. Regis feels incredibly honoured to be the one chosen for this. 

Realistically, if any omega showed up on his doorstep in dire need, Regis would leap to aid them. There are plenty of younger, better-suited alphas in the Citadel who would offer first, but if the omega only had eyes for Regis, then Regis would oblige. It isn’t just his instinct—he _wants_ to take care of his people. But in most cases, it would only be a duty—not something for his personal joy. In this case, he can feel that it’s more than that. This one might actually be compatible. This one looks _right_ in Regis’ bed, feels just at home in Regis’ lap. Regis feels a thrum of lust that goes beyond the physical—he wants to ravish this omega, but he also wants to keep Nyx afterwards. 

He waits for Nyx’s cues. His own wants pale in comparison to those of his charge. Nyx stares up at him, breathing hard and burning. His skin is feverish. Regis is glad that he already stripped out of his jacket. He sits in just his trousers and the white button-up that usually hides beneath his royal attire. Nyx wears only a pair of thin grey boxers that clings to his leg, soaked through in some places. Regis knows that all of his bedding will need several rounds in the wash by the time that they’re done. 

Nyx’s eyes flutter closed, and he turns his face along Regis’ thighs, nosing closer to Regis’ crotch. He presses into the bulge there and groans, loud enough that Regis can feel the vibrations of it. He can already tell he won’t be coherent much longer.

“There’s water for you on the nightstand,” Regis murmurs, needing to give all his information while he can. “The washroom door is over by my desk. Food will be brought to you in the morning and at every mealtime. If you wish for anything else, you have only to ask.”

“_You_,” Nyx rasps, so low that Regis almost doesn’t hear it. A violent shudder wracks through Nyx’s entire body, and he moans louder, “You, _please_...”

There’s something about seeing a grown man beg in that tone that gets to Regis. He pets down Nyx’s back, squeezing his shoulder once, making it clear that he’s not alone. He writhes and whines anyway, grinding his face into Regis’ crotch before lifting up on both elbows and nipping at the bottom button of Regis’ shirt. Bit by bit, Nyx lifts himself higher. He mouths all the way up Regis’ chest, always pressed close and audibly inhaling. When he’s properly sitting up, he buries his face in Regis’ shoulder and wraps his thick arms around Regis’ middle, hips bucking forward. Regis strokes his back and nudges him, drawing him up into a proper kiss. 

For a few fleeting seconds, everything is beautiful. Nyx accepts and returns the kiss, soft and pleasant, lips a little chapped but tongue velvety smooth, warm and wanting. Regis guides him through one mouthful of tongue after another. Then Nyx’s grows hungrier, and his teeth start to scrape, mouth moving too fast, pressing virulent kisses into Regis faster than he can keep up with. Regis has to fist one hand in Nyx’s hair to make him slow down. Nyx growls but behaves.

He’s going to be a difficult one, Regis can tell. Twenty years ago, Regis would’ve welcomed that. He would’ve happily let this handsome creature throw him up against a wall and fuck him stupid. But he doesn’t have that luxury anymore. Regis’ body can only take so much abuse, and Nyx’s heat needs soothing. So Regis has to maintain control. When Nyx tries to climb up into his lap, Regis pushes him back, then presses him right down to the mattress. 

Nyx goes where he’s guided. He stares up at Regis, muscles tense and clearly ready to spring into action. But he respects the alpha that he’s with enough to wait. Regis only spares a few seconds to enjoy the view—to ogle the broad expanse of his chiseled chest and the prominent tent in his damp boxers. 

Those have to go. Regis starts by hooking his thumbs into the waistband and tugging them down—Nyx growls approvingly and lifts his legs up to help. As soon as Regis has tossed the underwear away, Nyx is pulling his knees down to his chest and spreading his legs wide open.

Regis actually gulps. He’s far from a virgin. He’s seen plenty of omegas in his time, and plenty of them wet and wanting. But he’s never seen one with a cock as big as Nyx’s, nearly the same size as his own, rock-hard and pulsing with want, dribbling pre-cum out onto an impossibly taut stomach. Nyx’s hole is twitching wildly, clearly trying to flex open, completely moist around the edges and spilling over. The natural lubrication that most omegas secrete spills down Nyx’s round cheeks to pool in Regis’ sheets. It’s clear that Nyx is _ready_.

Nyx looks like he’s going to pounce if Regis takes any longer. So Regis starts unbuttoning his shirt, shrugs it off, and squirms out of his pants—he’s already too warm to be dressed. He knows Nyx is going to make him warmer. He gathers some of the slick fluid from Nyx’s crack and wipes it on his own shaft as he asks, “Do you want to be taken now?”

Nyx nods frantically. He licks his lips and mutters, “Your... Your Majesty...”

“Regis,” Regis corrects, because his title is too much of a mouthful for someone in heat. Nyx moans at the invitation and tosses his head back. His pink brim clenches and flexes open, pushing another slew of clear liquid out. Regis has to fight the urge to thrust in immediately. 

Instead, he presses his tip against Nyx’s puckered hole. He rubs himself liberally in the liquid there, and he teases the entrance before he finally pops the head inside. Nyx cries out instantly, Regis hissing. Even with how much Nyx’s body is naturally opening, it feels _tight_, stifling hot and ridiculously wet. Regis would normally start with fingers, but not with an omega so far in the throes of heat—he knows Nyx needs it _now_. He can tell that Nyx’s body wants this, is begging for it, is opening and soaking for him. He ruts shallowly into that anyway, going slow. 

Nyx’s legs suddenly clamp around Regis’ middle, and Nyx shoves two hands against the headboard, using that leverage to push himself down onto the rest of Regis’ cock. Regis makes a choking noise as his entire length shoots up inside Nyx’s body, completely swallowed all at once. Nyx howls deliriously and clenches so tight that Regis practically sees stars. If he was a younger man, he might come from that alone. 

He’s experience enough to hold out until his omega comes. He steadies himself and reaches out to remove Nyx’s grip on the headboard. Nyx whines but listens, dropping his arms back to the sheets. Then Regis adjusts the angle, hovering over Nyx on all fours—something he can’t do for long. He has to get Nyx off quickly. He shifts one hand to wrap around Nyx’s cock, and then he starts moving.

He pulls out and slams in, not bothering to be gentle anymore, because Nyx can clearly take it hard. Nyx seems to want it hard. He moans happily, his cock twitching in Regis’ hand, and he wriggles closer for the next thrust. Regis starts fucking him at a swift, steady pace, pumping him in time with it and pinning him down. 

Even held down on his back, Nyx isn’t easy. He’s easy to _fuck_—his channel sucks Regis’ cock like it wants nothing else, and his hips stutter up into every movement. But he also thrashes wildly, squirming in place and occasionally flailing out with a particularly vicious spasm. He kicks some of the pillows out of place, even punches a hole in the wall of shirts, head digging back to rumple the sheets as his body arches up. When his hands are on Regis, they’re bent into claws, digging in and scraping. Regis should stop it but doesn’t, because he’s too busy getting laid and it feels _so good._ When he’s balls deep in a great ass, he doesn’t care if he’s too old for it—he loves feeling a virile partner leave scratches down his back. He always preferred lovers with _fire_.

Nyx is an animal. He tries to leave messy kisses along Regis’ body, but those swiftly become little love-bites, then full on gnawing that will definitely leave bruises. Regis doesn’t stop that either. He tries to make kissing work, tries to keep Nyx in place with tongue and teeth, but when Nyx escapes that hold, he doesn’t complain about Nyx biting down into his shoulder. He even finds himself returning the favour, because Nyx has a gorgeous body that’s begging to be marked. Regis wants his stamp all over it. He buries himself to the hilt in Nyx’s tight ass and grinds his teeth into Nyx’s tender flesh, wanting to leave both places aching. He fucks Nyx with every bit of strength he has, because that’s exactly what Nyx deserves.

Regis reaches his height much sooner than he would’ve thought, but he holds back, doubling down on his efforts to tame his omega. He pins Nyx down all the harder and fucks him relentlessly, stroking him brutally, and finally driving him right over the edge.

Nyx _screams_ when he comes. It echoes off the walls loud enough to make Regis’ skin crawl, but in the best of ways. Nyx’s fingers dig into Regis so tight that he thinks he’s going to bleed. He grinds down into Nyx’s channel and squeezes Nyx’s cock, pumping every last drop out of him. Nyx comes all over both of them and pants and groans. 

He doesn’t slump down when he’s finished. He barely even flags. He just trembles and clenches and sobs, “_Regis, please_...”

Regis, still hard himself but ready to spill at any second, tenderly pets Nyx’s cheek and asks, “What do you want, love?”

Nyx croaks, “Again.”

So Regis gives it to him.


End file.
